Flower In the Flames: Revised
by Zorrashi
Summary: An unprecedented situation has arisen, and the fiery underworld is at its core. In a severe, time-sensitive situation that could herald the end, the Central 46 makes a decision that makes Momo's experiences a living hell, and Hitsugaya can do little as he is forced to watch it all. Rated T due to language and a bit of blood.
1. Kuseiko

A/N: Yes, yes, a revision was not originally one of my plans, but its happening. Upon looking back at my former works, I reflect on just how far I came, or rather, how much my style changed. I have long been dubious on the actual quality of my previous work; but the more I myself read other fanfics, the more it seems to dawn upon me that the actual perception of a story's words is highly reliant on the reader. (I know, it seems obvious). When I look on my 'stories of old' I see vague descriptions and lacking atmospheric guides. Yet it seems the picture created is sufficient for some readers.

But I feel that a revision is in order, though the original is still being left up. I expect a few changes to the plot, or at least to some nagging details, but otherwise this story is relatively the same. I literally brought up a copy of the original and edit it as I read through, typically consisting of elaboration. But you can still notice a few scrapped parts that I deemed too rushed or otherwise dispensable. Like Yachiru's curiosity on Hitsugaya's original squad.

Flower In the Flames: Revised

Chapter 1: Ruseiko

Hitsugaya has not been informed why, but he has been summoned to an emergency captain's meeting. Yet somehow, this didn't surprise him at all "And here I thought things were going to be peaceful again….."

Running a hand through his spikey white hair, he let out a heft sigh.

He hated the way things kept on showing up; the Ryoka invasion, Aizen incident, Bount invasion, Zanpaktou rebellion; so many wars and so many battles. Most were within the same year. Hardly enough time to recover.

It's been a year and a half since Aizen's defeat and things were going very smoothly, all things considered, in the Gotei 13. However, there are countless reports of vacant officer and squad seats…and the damages to certain buildings that were still being done. However slowly the progress was, things were starting to go back to normal.

Amidst all of this recover, the thought of lofty days of past were a constant topic on his mind. After such times were ruthlessly shattered by chaos and disruption. He was looking forward to the days that would resemble the ones before the Aizen incident; peaceful days where he could wake up whenever he felt like it, finish paper work in peace, look over his squad activities, get his afternoon nap in, and other simple tasks. Such were the former days of normalcy. In those days, he needed not worry for the life of himself and his men, or his colleagues. In those days, constantly being sent out into the field was not the norm, working in the office all day was. The few times he was able to do other activities were cherished.

Yes, he was really looking forward those days. But it was a near taunting longing, one that he was sure may not come soon, but still wanted none the less. Even now, he felt like he still held a burden on his shoulders. To have himself finally relived of the weight of heavily acted leadership, if only temporarily, is a welcome thought. As a captain, he had long accepted that the death of his subordinates—be it by hollow or illness or accident—was guaranteed and an inevitable occurrence under his reign. It is but a small part of the active weight that often lay upon him as their leader.

But as of the recent string of wars, he began to clearly feel this burden all too acutely. The numbers of men lost in battle rung in his head, as did their screams. The requiem that he heard was the nonexistent memory of those who have not been found, having to accept the fact that there may be no markers for where they fell. His sleep, haunted by whatever unconscious fear or regret that was smothered by resolve in his wake. But even when he was conscious, going about that day's needs, there where whispers of the severity of those same deaths upon their families.

Had his will not been so resolute and unwavering to prevent a bigger loss, he was slightly sure that his mind may have succumbed to it entirely and drown him in despair. It was a sort of personal burden that he did not expect to experience, naïve as it was. But why wouldn't he expect it? The job of a captain was filled with loss.

However, though his head bowed as if the sea weighted down upon it, he himself did not quake: that was the common quality among the captains of the Gotei, and he did not shame that title.

Now that he thought about it….this would be his first real experience in an elongated set of wars wouldn't it? No longer was his mind dulled by the elongated peace of what used to be the Soul Society he was privileged to be raised in. He now fully accepted that darkness can seep up and consume even what seemed to be an invincible military. His mind was now attuned to the real thing, and the real horrors. Huh, no wonder Soi Fon is always so stern.

But what did that matter now? There was peace. No war. Though….he often had to remind himself of that. Apparently his psyche had been so drowned in his ultimate goal of revenge, he had recently realized that relaxing had steadily become a forgotten prospect to him apart from the usual nap. His waking hours were unconsciously filled with apprehension and still readiness for any sort of battle, half expecting some sort of turmoil to arise.

He let his war-saturated thoughts fade away for a small time as he remembered one little, small fact. Regarding his childhood friend at least, he was able to apply some sort of all-encompassing ease to his mind, allowing his psyche to break free from the chains of war for a temporary amount of time.

His dear Momo, it seemed, has recovered from her wounds completely now, and she was starting to act like her old self. A very pleasing sign to his tired figure.

Aizen was still a taboo subject, but there still existed the promising act she smiles-genuine smiles. Which was a wonderful enough sign on its own, but became even more so when she began her joyous laughter and happily talking. He let his tired lips form a smile, desperately wanting, in the back of his mind, to hear her sweet voice again; in those days that he was secretly sure were going to come.

He looked up as he saw squad one's symbol on the large doors that lead to the room where the revered captain's meetings are held, the atmosphere thick with anticipation. The guards opened the doors once they saw his renowned figure, quickly pushing the solid wood to allow him entry.

Being only half filled with captains, since he came here well ahead of the scheduled time, Hitsugaya almost instinctively wandered over to his normal position within these meetings, having to remind himself that this is as it should be. Seeing those blank positions was normal, especially now that the situations weren't so dire.

Shunsui, noting his droll demeanor, glanced at him with one of his infamous smiles "Hey, don't be so down! I'm sure that Mayuri just accidentally spilled some experimental gunk in the fresh water supply again!"

Hitsugaya only responded with a grimace, as this was not the most credible person to listen to in regards of serious news. He also highly suspected that he was the one who paid for Rangiku's drinks a little earlier, which is why he still has to do overtime as soon as he gets back to his office after this.

The mentioned mad scientist sharply turned to them at the mention of his name "That was years ago. It was only because that clumsy lieutenant of yours knocked over the liquids!" he pointed a crooked finger at Shunsui, his eyes slightly bulging and his teeth grinding. He seemed easy enough to irritate.

"You call my Nanao-chan clumsy! I think of it as childish of you to blame my sweet Nanao-chan for your own mistake." he lazily said, averting his eyes as if he was guilty of nothing and only poking fun.

It was at about that time that Komamora, stiff and rigid in his domineering approach, filled into the room with a sort of huff. Ukitake followed shortly after, coughing with a vast intensity before he took his own statute by the door.

"It's the truth! She should've stayed away from my experimental area, otherwise none of that would have happened!"

Waving his hat as he started dismissing the matter, he cheekily replied "Now, now, what's done is done. No use crying about it."

"I'm not taking that from you!"

A gruff tone silenced them, apparently Hitsugaya wasn't the only one who was fed up with the argument "That's enough! That is not what this meeting is about!" the Head Captain raised his voice in order to quell the fighting, and as if on cue, Kenpachi arrived, not even bothering to make his footsteps a little quieter as he went to his assigned spot, already grumbling his discontent at being called here from his "training" regimen.

The Head Captain wasted no time, not even bothering to allow a moment for everyone to collect their bearings before he began "I have called this meeting for one important reason, so I'd better not here any squabbling on the matter!" he was taking any sort of shenanigans it seemed, and that meant no patience for the more 'troublesome' captains. "An unprecedented and severe development has arisen, and it seems the world of Hell is involved."

More than a few eyebrows were raised as all eyes locked unto his figure. It wasn't every day that shinigami, who only concerned themselves with the Soul Society and the World of the Living, were to turn their heads toward the world of sinners. In fact, doing so was illegal in almost all cases. All cases except one: Spiritual Governing—the absolute and supreme duty of the shinigami.

So the situation was not only unusual, it could very well be threatening to the balance in some manner.

Focusing his sharp eyes on the head captain, he began the addresment with the most obvious question so as to get this meeting under way "So what is it?"

Taking a small inhale and meeting his gaze, he promptly replied in a straightforward manner "A spiritual anomaly called a kuseiko has formed within its depths, and as a result the tapestry of hell is compromised. This can prove detrimental to the balance of souls."

Kurotsuchi took the stand as he finished, being quick to take over the conversation "For those of you who don't know, a kuseiko is merely a rare object formed within hell from the agony, pain and spiritual power of the sinners that dwell within. Under normal circumstances, the responsible personnel in hell would make sure that such an even does not occur, but it seems that they failed at that duty. We now have to deal with this ourselves."

Soi Fon, not pleased with the little amount of information given, interjected with a stern stare "Why is this object so dangerous? If it's enough to call an emergency meeting then we should have more information. Plus, if it has formed then why don't the "responsible personal" in hell fix it? What reason is there that we have to interfere?"

Kurotsuchi eyed the captain "I wasn't finished you know….." he looked around the room before he spoke again "Once this kuseiko is formed, the residences of hell cannot see or sense it and even if they could, they cannot interact with it, their skin just passes through it. Truly a troublesome thing. The reason it has been brought to our attention is because of the same reason we try not to allow it to form. The kuseiko manipulates space in such a way, that it threatens to tear into the same world that it's in parallel with, eventually ripping the universal tapestry completely, making one world the same as the other, merging, so to speak."

After a few more moments he adds "If I had to give you a comparison, it's kind of like when a Menos Grande uses kumon*1 to enter the Living World, literally tearing away the world's tapestry as it does so. These, as you should know, are very and exceptionally unstable to the point that we have the Kido Corps mend the distortion as quickly as allowed. It may close itself, but the spacial and time distortion remain chaotic enough to cause problems in the future, particularly in concerns to when a soul is in the process of passing on; such distortions can interfere with transmigration, and can lose or distort souls when they are in the right circumstances. This item, this kuseiko, it completely destroys the spatial boundaries all together…..the distortion of a kumon pales in comparison to the consequences that a kuseiko can create."

There was an uneasy silence in the room as everyone registered the stakes, now being able to fully comprehend the consequences of their failure and the severity of the problem. Their sole reason for existence is to maintain balance, and thus preserve the world. Now hell seemed to be the plane that was disturbed, and thus threatened their existence.

Soi Fon immediately called for discourse "Then let us open the gates of hell so we can fix this immediately!"

Leering at his colleague, he looked at her as if he was talking to a child "Like I said, the kuseiko manipulates space in its dimensional tapestry. We manipulate dimensional principles ourselves when we open any sort of portal, including the typical senkaimon. But because of the way the kuseiko is randomly manipulating space as well as time, opening a gate to hell is simply impossible. Even in the off chance that we could stabilize the currents to allow any sort of connection to the other side, then the soul that ventures in will undeniably perish!"

"Then how are we supposed to solve this?"

"If we knew that then would we be here?" There was a standstill, being unable to think of any course of action. How were they supposed to fix the problem if no one could enter the dimension?"

It was unusual for Komamora to voice any sort of input in these matters, but apparently, he was the only one willing to put any suggestion out, despite how meager it was "What about machinery? If we can create a connection, is it possible to send something in that is not alive?" It was not the brightest idea, but it was better than nothing.

"Unfortunately I'm not sure….the chances of even making the pathway stable for any amount of time is slim. It is a microscopic chance, if anything else. Personally I don't even think it's worth trying. But if I have to, I will."

There was more silence befalling upon them that undoubtedly made this the least progressive meeting in memory. But one could always count on the commander to shatter the atmosphere of indecision "I hereby order captain Kurotsuchi to explore all options and possibilities on how to solve this problem. Captain Komamora and Captain Unohana are to assist him by any means they find necessary. All other captains are to inform their corresponding lieutenants of this incident and to answer any questions they may have. Lieutenants without a captain are to be informed by a captain of another division and I will leave it amongst yourselves to decide whom. I will assume there will be resistance if we do manage to enter hell, so it would be wise to prepare for battle. If there are no other questions, then this meeting is dismissed!"

Banging his walking stick on the ground, it was cue for the captains to leave and perform their acquitted duties. One by one, they all filed out; some were apprehensive while others silently mute on the matter.

Kenpachi loudly muttered his discontent once they were outside the meeting hall "Tch! There is not even a conflict to distract myself in! It's just a matter of finding some damn artifact!"

Turning his head to gaze at the irritated captain, Hitsugaya realized that Ikkaku's rambling was correct: The world could literally be ending and he wouldn't even care. All he cared about was bloody conflict. Granted, he knew he was a blood thirsty demon in comparison to the rest of the captains, but he failed to see to what extent until just now.

Hitsugaya then spoke to him, raising his head in order to look at his gigantic figure, and to his slight chagrin, the taller beast had to actually bend down his spine to peer at his smaller one "You know captain Zaraki….if the world of the living ends, then it would be safe to say that hollows will largely be uninterested in even approaching the world of the living. They would rather cower in Hueco Mundo and cannibalize each other—and of course we would likely be unable to reach that dimension as well. "

Zaraki winced as his rusty mind processed the idea. He scratched the back of his head to show how discontent, a sure sign that his attention was caught—even if only slightly.

So he continued "…the head captain is bound to seal the senkaimon as a precaution. It really would be a pain. To spend all day idly waiting for a civil conflict in the Rukongai while the stronger hollows are so completely out of our reach."

Zaraki now stopped dead in his tracks, and Hitsugaya figured that his strategy worked. But truth be told, it was no so much to motivate him as much as it was to break the boredom. He was tired of Zaraki's typical disinterest in anything not involving combat.

Zaraki quickly left his side using shunpo, and he did not particularly care where he was going. Yachiru always managed to catch up with him.

In his stead, Soi Fon took his spot as his converser "I'm not sure if I want him even attempting to 'help'. He is more likely to cause trouble than fix it."

"Captain Soi Fon" He greeted. He has long gotten used to the fact that a lot of captains have been paying more attention to him. They may try to deny, may try to hide it, but their actions proved the existence of their curiosity. If that didn't then their obvious look of pride would—Ukitake's in particular was so painfully obvious that he inwardly wished no one ever blabbed off about his constant temporary leaves to North Rukongai. Couldn't they just say that he was taking small vacations? Or perhaps just looking at the sights? Apparently that was too otherworldly for him. Due to the mass power he has been gaining at an almost unprecedented rate, the sharp sensing Unohana was the first to notice the increased intensity of his reiatsu, even when restrained. A few murmurs from her to Shunsui and some bottles of sake, and then every captain practically held it in common knowledge. Thus, he has gained himself the curiosity of his peers. Even if it is only due to, perhaps, their own will to make sure that they never become so dull as to be defeated by him. He has noticed Kurotsuchi's eager tinkering in his pocket near his person one too many times.

Now he looked back at the captain who was always interested in the power of a potential betrayer "It was mostly for a change in pace. But I honestly would not be surprised if that freak of nature actually proved himself useful. I'm sure even the dull have their days…."

"Yes. I suppose you could be right." She mused.

"-and if worse comes to worse, we could ask Mayuri to open an unstable gate to hell and send him through it. Unlike us, he might actually pull it off." He said this half as a joke, and half serious. He was trying to lighten the mood, despite how unskillful he was at it, and despite how off-character it was of him.

It took him quite some time for him to navigate the maze-like structure of the Seireitei back to his Squad. Had it not been for his years inhabiting it, he would not have made it in even three times the time. He was sure he knew the way so well that he could be blindfolded and still manage to find his way back.

It was almost an unspoken fact that Hitsugaya took interest in anything that could potentially involve Hinamori, so it came as no surprise to the captains when they heard that the tenth squad captain took to informing her of the current situation.

The whole ordeal was rather brief, and mostly consisted of meager expansion on the qualities that a kuseiko can possesses. All in all, barely lasted five minutes. If even that. There was barely anything to discuss, it was literally "something formed and it threatens the world. We can't get to it right now either". Truly a bitterly vague situation. But it was a real, legitimate threat. It is not meant to be taken lightly. So he gave himself the extra duty of fully divulging the very concept of a hell without bounds, making sure to accentuate the fact that the very concept and process of human transmigration will be deteriorated to near nonexistence should it happen.

"-So that's the situation as it is. If you have any questions you are free and encouraged to ask."

Noting how far her barracks were from his own, he saw to it that she was called over the moment he had access to a hell butterfly. He, for one, had no interest in visiting two separate squad barracks. With the situation as it is, he was unsure of when exactly when or how the situation would be at its critical stage, and though it was only recently discovered, he knew better than to act like the world had patience.

Hinamori was obviously unfettered by the explanation, with her hand unconsciously grabbing at the cloth near her chest. She knew what he told her was not a farce, not even a typical accordance of their duties; but a real and dangerous threat to existence. It was so surreal, the situation now was like someone announcing that the endless sky was falling, or the constant ground of earth was splitting. But he made to accentuate every reality and possible outcome, and despite comprehending all that he said, she found herself unable to properly fathom the consequences should the situation go unchanged.

But she knew this much; it terrified her "So we currently have no idea how to fix this problem? At all?"

Turning his gaze to her, he offered his dear childhood friend the most sincere look of apology he was willing to give. He had long noticed her sudden change of mood once he laid out the problem for her, completely understanding her concern—hearing about the potential end of the world is supposed to unnerve as person, and lay thick the seeds of doubt and worry "It is unfortunate, but no, we don't have a course of action right now. Kurotsuchi is looking for potential options and possibilities right now as we speak. Given that it's Kurotsuchi we're talking about, it is highly suspected that he will find something."

That last line was a little bit of a lie. Kurotsuchi was impressive at what he does but he wasn't a miracle worker. Given the peculiarities of the situation, there is not much to be done in regards to a dimension that is fluctuating so wildly in its shape or form. But for now he is willing to put any meager sugar coat to sweeten the dismal predicament. Even as he stands here, giving them all the facts they needed to know, he had within him some doubts of his own; for this situation is the normal battle that he typically encounters. This onslaught of a situation was filled with neither soldiers nor blades. Not even strategic placements or traps. It is a situation that could not be solved by tactic or wit or any amount of might.

No. This situation was made purely out of circumstance, being independent of person or will. It is a foreign aspect to him. It almost seemed like they were fighting against the very world itself, and were being prisoner under time.

As if mirroring his own untraceable uneasiness, Rangiku looked short on breath herself "Even though the Soul Society isn't going to be directly affected by hell, isn't there some way to still maintain the balance of souls? At least enough to maintain our own existence?"

"No. Our world in indisputably tied to the world of the living. Their fate mirrors ours. That is certain. We can only hope that the officers in hell have or will be going through some sort of action to prevent that outcome. But should they fail, and the boundary is ripped, there will be no saving all of the souls left under hell's new influence." His response was blunt, but it served its purpose. He could not afford to have them hope for impossible things, such things could be fatal.

Despite the current situation mostly regarding an entirely different world, it was highly expected that the judges and sages of the Soul Society's highest and only court were evaluating the situation. But given how the military was currently inept at doing any action, she suspected that the wise men and women of the Central 46 may be reviewing old documents (or whatever it is that they do) for their own answers to determine a course of actions. Of this, Momo was intensely curious "How's the Central 46 taking this?"

"From what I've heard, they too are exploring all options. They're discussing on what to do next right now."

She didn't want it to show, but the response made her heart fall. The situation was becoming more and more dismal the more they lingered on the matter, even though that was all they could do. Even the Central 46 was hard pressed?

She didn't like to think about it, but fact of the matter was, if they were desperate enough, the Central 46 is likely to order something drastic. It could be harmful to everyone if they felt the cause was all the just they needed.

That being said, even if as much as a hundred, or even a thousand lives were sacrificed in order to gain any foothold on the situation, she was sure they were going to take it. No matter how awful it may seem.

However, it has long been a standing rule that anything related to hell, including study or documentation, is forbidden. To say that there is little to go on would be an understatement. Due to that law, everything even remotely related to hell was silenced. They have a few methods used to enter hell in the rare occurrences that their action was necessary, but obviously, such methods were worthless now.

But still…that didn't stop people from trying to research hell anyway. In fact, she knew for a fact that that was true. There did exist people who were more than willing to study hell, sometimes through immoral ways. But the real question was if the Central 46 was willing to use those forbidden methods themselves….

Hitsugaya's voice snapped her out of her thoughts "All we can do is wait. But the head captain issued an order not to long ago that we're supposed to have our zanpaktou on our person at all times and that we're now in a state of emergency." Hitsugaya started walking toward the door "-we're also supposed to stay within our squad barracks until instructed otherwise and to inform all squad members of this situation." He opened the door, making a small gesturing with his hand for Momo to exit first. It was quite late, and it was encouraged that she return to her squad as soon as possible.

From her sitting position on floor, her hands reluctantly leaving their places from her knees, Momo silently rose. Her crisp uniform made small sways as she walked through the doorway, her feet taking her toward her barracks almost instinctively.

-X

She continued thinking on this whole hellish situation, delving into her own worries and concerns. Even though it was futile, she still probed the recesses of her memory for any possible little hint that may be found there to help out. These thoughts made her already crazed nerves more finicky than they already were, and thus she didn't notice Toushiro following her. He was matching her footsteps perfectly, almost like he was her shadow, combined with the fact that he was concealing his reiatsu (as captains often do), it was only his distinctive shadow on the wall that alerted her to his presence "Umm…You don't have to follow me..."

Without changing either of his possible not-so-intentioned tactics he continued on with almost the same leisure as if it was a normal day for him "I know, but since I'm going to be confined to my barracks as well, I thought that I might as well walk you to your home safely."

"Oh…" Momo had nothing to say to that, she liked his company. Even in this circumstance, he still carried that air of seriousness and authority, with his arms in their typical crossed position. Yes—it would be hard to say that Hitsugaya was acting any different than the norm. Only Hinamori was able to tell that he was slightly concerned, his furrowed brows being more prominent and deeper than normal.

They continued walking in silence, neither were speaking for the fear of shatter this calm moment between them. It was like the calm before a chaotic storm. But be it for the unbearable tension or a precarious whim, it was Hitsugaya that broke the silence "You know…it's not like the Soul Society is ending with an explosion; even if the world of the living does end, and the balance is indeed no more….I will still protect you."

This made Momo stop. She heard it, though it was in a hushed voice, but it still shocked to hear it coming from his mouth. It was an unusual thing for anyone to declare anything like that, and yet he seemed to have no hint of doubt in his voice. She looked back at him, a look of bewilderment on etched on her face, but he still looked as stoic as ever, and it didn't seem like he was going to grace her with a repeat of his earlier statement. He knew she heard, her face told him that, yet he was not surprised that she doubted what he said. It was very possible that she just dismissed it as false hearing on her part.

_But that will change nothing._ He decided.

She turned away and walked on, her shoulders slightly sagging a bit more, inwardly deciding, or perhaps, coming to a revelation that even if she did have his protection, it won't save her.

And even with his protection, he could do little about hell. Hell, she knew, is a thing well beyond even Hitsugaya's comprehension. But she also knew, despite how much she earnestly wished it wasn't true…that hell wasn't beyond her.

She had no idea why she did what she did, but out of an apprehensive reflex, she turned back and smiled at him. A smile that, had she not been so good at faking it by now, she was confident he would know was forced.

-x-(revision end)

Kumon*1- It is the method of travel used by Menos Grande. It literally tears at the space between it and the Living World. Unlike the more stable gargantas that higher level hollows use, these can cause spatial distortions, and is the primary method/type of garganta used by Gillians.

A/N: How do you think I characterized Hitsugaya? Even though I wanted to emphasize his growth since the latest war, I can't help but think I made him too "light hearted" in the previous version.


	2. Yukio Kenryu

A/N: I think Yukio went over a major overhaul, in both characterization and general subtlety. He seemed much to 'open' in the previous version, so I tined him down a tad. Also refined the general reactions toward his person.

Flower In the Flames: Revised

Chapter 2: Yukio Kenryu

"_If 'fate' is what decides things…then is there a reason that I am the unfortunate flower…?_

_Is there a reason I am cursed with this unforgiving…_

_power?..._

_Ability?..._

_meaning…?_

_What is the meaning to it…?_

_Am I simply a by-product of the tangled threads of destiny? Something that was made accidentally?_

_If that's the case…..that should make me a weak pitiful flower…that shall eventually be enveloped in flames…and burn until there is nothing but ash…."_

_-Momo Hinamori_

-X-

Hitsugaya was, once again, standing in his usual spot in the captain's meeting room; another meeting has already been issued and is currently in commence. But due out of either precaution or formality, the main topic at hand, it seemed, was to wait until all squad reports were given so as to give the Commander an idea of the current state of affairs on their end.

The order was going from Squad thirteen down, and his turn has been slightly delayed due to Kenpachi's inability to add any depth on his report, merely saying that they were "fine" and "ready for whatever fight gets thrown at them".

But that was of little matter, for he had other concerns that did not involve the eleventh's mediocre status check. It was Hinamori. On their way back to her compound, he noticed that her reiatsu was getting increasingly harder to read. Not because she was frantic or anything (or was she?), but she was intentionally calming, and at certain times, hiding her reiatsu. Had anyone else been around they would have figured nothing of it, given Hinamori's impeccable pacing to allow such fluctuations to go unnoticed. It was almost as if it was her typical state. But for him, who perhaps knew her and her reishi the best, the changes were noted.

It was no secret that everyone, captain or not, was getting unnerved by the situation as it stands—some of his men even broke down from what he's heard, crumbling under the pressure when no one was looking. And yet while some broke down, others scoffed—not quite understanding how the world can be in danger when nothing around them is amiss. Thankfully all know when a situation is real based on the demeanor of its captain, and thus most men were going about their orders as if it was a real mission. But he was sure there were a few who dismissed it as a vast, seireitei wide, drill—some of the men were just simply dense, and cannot fathom anything that does not involve blood and enemies. Ergo why squad eleven in particular was…disorganized (to give it a word).

Yet Momo, like all others of her rank, knows to heed this situation. Like the rest also, she should be worried. But why did she feel the need to cover it up? Technically speaking, Hitsugaya knew there was no reason to conceal her mood at all, not with everything presented at its current state.

Which meant that there was an outside factor. A factor that eluded him still. Lingering regrets perhaps?

It would certainly be normal, the weight of potential destruction can make anyone reflect on their lives, and the things that they never did. He himself had a few.

Noticing the head captain's stick vaguely swerving as his mouth made its typical motions, he also caught Kenpachi grunting from the corner of his eye, as the head captain turned his attention of him "Hitsugaya. It has come my attention that you have taken charge in overseeing squad five in addition to your own. I want your report on both."

"There is nothing out of the ordinary to report head captain. All of my men, as well as squad five's, are now carrying their zanpaktou at all times and are currently waiting inside their corresponding barracks awaiting any further orders. Since the time of stationary positioning, Momo Hinamori hasn't reported any problems and she too is waiting for further orders and updates. All major gateways and streets have been secured according to officer residencies that were nearby those locations, I therefore have spread out a wide variety of variably powered soldiers amidst our corresponding districts within Seireitei. This is to allow us to respond at least a little efficiently to nearly any situation presented no matter where the disturbances arise."

The head captain nodded, always satisfied with Hitsugaya's impeccable caution in such situations. "Very good. Take extra care with making sure there is no disorder amongst the squads." He turned his head to regard the large wolf form of Komamora "Captain Komamora, overseer to squads eight and nine, give me your report."

He didn't pay attention to the rest, as it was almost the same thing every meeting: fine. The captains who implied otherwise the majority of the time were Kenpachi and Kurotsuchi, but they typically were of a disorderly bunch anyway, so it was not irregular. Why pay attention to the normal things?

It all blurred by him, with his ears faithfully telling him that the meeting so far has not in any way steered away from the normal aspects. Soi Fon was thorough, Kyoraku was efficient, Unohana perfectly prepared for any casualty; nothing was different.

Meanwhile his mind still lingered on the topic of Hinamori. It almost seemed incredulous that he was thinking of a childhood friend while the others were actually concentrating on the potential end of the world, yet somehow…he didn't give as much of a damn as he thought.

Don't get him wrong, it was certainly within his interest—as it was in everyone's interest—to see their world, and therefore their existence, kept safe and secure, but he simply did not have any foreboding feelings as much as he had expected. His doubts, though they gnawed on him at times, were easily forgotten while he continued on with his resolute path. His fears, though existent, were easily extinguished with any increase in his courage, heightened by his pride at his own strength and the will of his person. To put it into words, this whole thing that made his mind sharp and his body waiting for any sign of danger…it wasn't as bad as he thought. The world, even as he looked at it and walked on it, was still normal; and even though he knew such a thing could be destroyed any time now, he seemed to accept that fact almost as easily as he accepted that death was a apart of his job.

Doubts and worries still existed…..but even now, they were kept well in check.

In truth, he expected to have more turmoil within his mind and more woes to weigh down his body, yet he still felt no amount of guilt or concern when his mind drifted to Hinamori's wellbeing and safety amidst it all, almost as if it never really changed from his occasional months where he did exactly the same thing in those days of peaceful melancholy.

As if knowing where his mind lingered, the bang of a stick on the floor was what brought his attention back to the task at hand, and the old man even looked a tad bit annoyed when he glanced at his direction. Or was it another look? His wrinkled face was but in its usual worn down and stern appearance, and truly, it was only the opening and closing of his eyes that could betray any feeling at all if he was reluctant to speak. But reading even that proved difficult. "Now for the main reason I called forth this meeting. In regards to the current situation, the central 46 has made a….unusual decision. It seems that we are to use the assistance of a prisoner to help us gain the kuseiko. He is from the Central Underground Prison."

The gazes of all the captains in the room remained hard, but there was a certain vehemence in the room as they regarded the idea of beholding a shinigami who has broken the law in this room so full of the most competent and power shinigami of their time. It was insult that they had to accept the help of a person so below their stature. With the entirety of squad twelve, competent and expert at their craft, working on finding a solution, the central 46 were impatient at what they considered either incompetence on their part or a waste of time. As they all pondered on the next course of action, there was an apparent lack of faith in the row of captains to be able to do anything-even bring up an idea.

….It was a true situation, though. Even in a small, reasonable way, they were incompetent. They really did come up with nothing as time kept on ticking by despite knowing that they may not have any time left at all.

They were, in a word: useless.

So yes, the obvious internal scorn at having to mentally bend their knee to a mere prisoner was infuriating. But no one seemed to show this and everyone opted to mull over their wounded pride later.

Opening his eyes to stare at the doorway, the old figure gave a slightly discontent rumble as he permitted those doors, which forbade entry into their influential and power midst, to open for the lowest shinigami that has yet to grace their eyes "Yukio Kenryu. Enter!"

As those doors creaked as they were pushed, everyone sighted the members of the Kido Corps, their hands tightly clasped around staves that were laden with chains. Chains that were bound to the wrists and neck of a young man, sealing his spiritual pressure from even the detection of the keenest within the room. He was dressed in the white garb of the fallen, and yet his back was straight and his walk firm as he walked into the room on his own accord, his escorts surprisingly falling behind his impatient steps. If he didn't know any better, he would say that the security was disturbingly lax. Did they really allow prisoners to control their own path of travel? That was supposed to be their job. Not his. The purpose of any jailor is to control the prisoner, who lost his rights long ago.

At noticing this, his contempt heightened. This man obviously still had pride, and enough of it so as to not care for the authority of those that should be above him. But perhaps the thing that made him dislike him the most was his grin. His golden eyes contrasted with his unruly brown flaxen hair, and yet his grin was what made him stand apart; it was small, but prominent. Confident too. It be told of his cunning nature and his dubious code of ethic, likely based on principles that any decent man would despise. But he didn't seem to let that thought deter his Cheshire grin.

As the chains that restricted his movement were unleashed from his person, leaving only the metal bands on his wrist to serve as a reminder that he was bound, those who escorted him here promptly left the room, ordered to wait until the finishing of their proceedings to bind their prisoner once more.

There was only a minimal pause once the doors closed before the introduction, the head captain doing the usual formality of properly identifying the man that stood before them "A prisoner of the fifth level of the underground prison, this man is known as Yukio Kenryu. His primary crime was the illegal experimentation with living souls."

His voice matched his grin, sounding to be laden with mockery, sarcasm and knowing beguilement "I thought I was going to be confined in there forever. It truly is nice to be in outside world again."

He was sentenced to the underground prison, which meant that his crimes were above simply being illegal. The underground prison, filled with nearly every single spiritual precaution and physical restraints, was typically kept for those who, in some shape or form, meddled with the world. Tessai, Urahara's companion, was sentenced to the third level of this prison prior to defection. His crime; the use of forbidden kido. Specifically the use of kido that manipulated time and space; spells that, even if it was unintentional, may cause dangerous drifts in the world's own time flow and spatial maintenance.

Another known inmate was Aizen, who threatened the balance with his various escapades in addition to his gaining of immortality, being able to kill regular souls by a single whim. It is unknown how such a soul could influence the balance, but it was easily deduced that he could do the damage quite easily, and that is in addition of to his fighting prowess.

Though he did not know the specifics of each level of the prison, and the criteria that puts prisoners there, but he knew this much; he was not as threatening as Aizen in either influence or power, but his crimes were heinous enough to be deemed more dangerous than forbidden kido—quite a feat considering the scope of the types Tessai used.

He was a dangerous person.

Yukio spoke with his taunting tone "I suppose now's a good time for me to explain how to solve this problem?" his question was directed toward the head captain, he didn't look the least fazed that he was addressing the strongest shinigami in the soul society.

Yamamoto looked unfazed by this "Yes, you may speak."

Kenryu looked around the room carefully, likely making a mental note of each and every one of their faces "Alright. I think I should start by saying that even without a portal to the world of hell there is still a way to send someone to hell. Mentally speaking."

Already this man was not making sense. But he was brought here for a reason, so there must be a reason.

"I know it sounds impossible, but it is possible to send someone's consciousness to hell. Their body will remain but their mental state will not. Given hell's punishing nature on both the physical and mental level, it really shouldn't surprise anyone, but when I discovered it, I couldn't be more surprised myself. I understand that most of us are not capable of envisioning such concepts, but bear with me." He took an intended pause, looking at them all as if they were children in a classroom who was supposed to ask him questions.

Hitsugaya's brow made a slight twitch. Now he was arrogant. Truly, this man was driving his patience. He felt sorry for anyone who had to work with him.

Soi Fon, on the other hand, had no patience for criminal scum "In case you haven't noticed, we are in a hurry. Explain yourself and your intended methods fully before you stop talking. We can ask questions later."

At thiss, he looked hurt, his smile becoming a frown, and his cheerful eyes forming differently as he made his pout "Fine, Fine. You know it's not a bad idea to spend your last days having a little fun…"

"Just continue." She snapped.

He regained his smile in a moment, his eyes broadcasting to everyone that he was delighted to continue "Oh yes, of course…As I was saying, it is possible to send a consciousness to hell. Apparently hell has a tendency to try and kept the mind of its prisoners intact. That is to say, hell intentionally keeps the mind relatively stable for as long as possible, in order for each prisoner to be able to experience their punishment to the fullest extent. It's a bit of a duality there, hell is meant to make you lose your mind with all of the torture and agony and yet hell itself doesn't want their fragile little minds to break…"

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall the details of his knowledge to aid his conversation, but he was apparently satisfied with the basics of his memory, with the corner of his mouth turning into a slightly higher smile "Though it is possible, only certain people can accomplish the task. These flowers you see, they're of a rare breed, not meant to be so common as to become mere regularities. They are born purely to have the potential to burn in hell's flames."

"Flowers?" Shunsui asked.

Kenryu blinked a few times, before incredulously explaining himself "Ah….yes. Pardon my habit, I just have the tendency to referring to these particular souls as "flowers". Can't say it didn't come in handy; literally every time someone passed me by they thought I was talking about gardening-which, I will also add, was quite the attraction when I had one. I also found it quite befitting, all of these souls are female, and all of them seemed rather delicate when put to the test. I suppose given their rarity I should have gone with a different nickname. Perhaps gems or maybe…"

Soi Fon was rather curt "Don't divert the subject."

Looking unabashed, he continued "But I digress, these souls tend to appear once every thousand generations or so. I can't give you the exact time periods when hell gives off these energies and disruptions, but that is my rough estimate. In addition, the chance of a soul actually being influenced by these energies is slim, so they are exceptionally rare, I can barely count three at the most. Then add in the fact that they tend to die easily…"

He gave a sort of tired sigh before addressing to the sullen looks in the room, this time adding a more rambunctious cheery smile to his face "But rejoice! We happen to be in that fortunate time period where they exist."

The faces in the room were starting to look sullen.

"Don't worry you lot! We just so happen to be in that said generation!" he was back to his sly sarcastic ways.

What he just said did nothing to even slightly increase the enthusiasm in the room; only three special souls—if even that-even existed out of the millions of thousands that already did exist in the populace of the Soul Society. Hell, there wasn't even a guarantee that there was even one left if they were as endangered as Yukio claimed.

As if reading their doubts, he continued on with his ecstatic lecture "—and as an expert on the subject, I happen to know one. And I also know that she will be more than willing to help us out. Not that you'd take "no" for an answer though, right?"

Indeed they wouldn't. Push comes to shove, one soul is not worth the weight of the world. Even if it was despicably unwanted…yes, they would force her. There was no "what if" about it.

"But before I tell you about the little miss, I should tell you about the small preparations needed before her departure. It would be best if we prepared ahead of time. I will also take this time to inform you on one crucial factor; whatever happens to her consciousness in hell is reflected on the body. Wounds, burns, stuff of that nature. Best keep that in mind before you send her out."

Kenryu had a particular look come over him, figuring that that little fact would be self-explanatory when the first trip was under way. Looking past it, he shook his head slightly "In order to make sure the mental state does, in fact, get into hell, also take the time to make sure she is calm and is in a state of meditation. Make sure also, that you only slash her once."

Kyouraku nearly toppled over "Wait—what? Now we have to slash her! That's a bit important don't you think? I'm pretty sure we should know that we have to critically injure a woman."

Yukio almost looked appalled "Oh gods no! When I say "slash", I actually mean something more along the lines of "scratch". In order to purge hell's influence in the worlds, there exists several instruments that are used to send hell's energies and influences back from whence it came. These instruments, which the government has possession of one, easily confuse these special souls as hell's prisoners or hell's unintended mistakes. Though these weapons are not exactly that effective against these souls who are, in fact, not considered residents in the purest sense, they do hold some affect none the less. A scratch and the subject will find her own psyche subject to hell's own energy, and thus its effects."

"Is that right? And you say we have possession of at least one of these?"

"That is correct. They are typically held as illegal instruments, but they will permit a release in the current situation. The one that is held in Seireitei is a sword—a black one. It is generally harmless against anyone not of hell's fire. Passes right on through pure souls. But as has already been stated, I know fully well that though they are not fatal to these flowers, but they are not harmless either. My studies proved that much."

People already suspected his previous profession, this was the first time Kenryu has said anything to confirm it. It was a confirmation that made him openly scowl in disgust "So…you were imprisoned for experimenting on girls to make them venture into hell? I assume that means you were also the cause of many of their deaths."

His eyes were a bit hazy as he responded, his voice holding a distinctly cheery tune ""Mmhm and even now I don't feel a single shred of guilt! These flowers were quite literally born to bloom in flame. It was a pleasure to watch their inevitable fall."

_Crazy._ Hitsugaya decided. This man was more than ambitious, he was crazy. From referring to his subjects as "flowers" to the seemingly euphoric way in which he recalled them (and their experiments), this man seemed to take little heed to how they ended up. Hell was anything but gentle to its visitors, and given that it's a place of eternal torment, it was easy to image them becoming insane from the ordeal, or grievously injured due to its inhabitants. Coupled with the fact that it was hell he was dealing with, and its no wonder as to why he was imprisoned.

In fact, now that he thought about it, he seemed a lot like a certain captain in this room. He looked over at Kurotsuchi to see him wildly grinning and his fingers twitching with anticipation. Kenryu's interest of experimenting on the 'flowers' was apparently contagious to him as he started wildly fidgeting in his position. Hitsugaya inwardly shuddered at the similarity. They seemed to have similar passions in terms of research, though the topics differed.

As he mentally asked himself the question of Mayuri's own probably imprisonment in prison, he reminded himself that prior to his release, he was pent up in a cell himself. The only difference between him and Kenryu; Kenryu had actually done something, Mayuri didn't. He was only highly suspected to, hence why he was put into Maggot's Nest. Locked up before he could commit a crime.

Still in his reverie, Kenryu continued drabbling on about the qualities of his "flowers" and the specifics of the overall process, adding obviously sentimental tidbits here and there, his obvious awe for his discoveries blatantly obvious "But by far, the best subject was sweet, lovely Momo—"

He choked. As did others as they heard the name, not expecting to hear a familiar set of syllables amidst his crazed nonsense. He saw others regaining their composure, particularly Ukitake, dismissing their fright for the common name.

Honestly, he admired the simplicity and befitting nature of her name, but there were times when he wished it was more unique. Just like the name "Aya", the name "Momo" consisted of only one character, and was a popular choice in both nicknames and real names. At least people had the decency to refer to her by her surname, otherwise he would be turning his head in a decent number of passerby conversations.

Blind to their momentary distress, Kenryu proved to be ecstatic about the subject "It really is such a shame that I could never see her off. I wonder how she turned out afterward? Surely such a beauty would have climbed high in society, even if she wasn't a shinigami….but such gentle hands are not meant for hard labor…." He lost himself for second "But it is of no matter, she will be brought up before me soon enough…Captains? Are you listening? Good. Because Momo will be the dear that will help you gain your precious ruseiko."

Hitsugaya coughed "Is "Momo" the only name you have for us? Surely you have knowledge of her last name. Finding a person by such a common name sake will be tedious and difficult for us."

No matter how many times he tells himself he is not referring to his childhood friend, his mind still didn't like her name used in conjunction with potential –lethal experiments. It was bad enough that uttering the name induced her image in conjunction with Kenryu's…not a happy scene, given what he has been describing.

"Hinamori. Her last name is Hinamori."

His heart stopped.

He was deaf to the uproar that erupted then after, with nearly every inhabitant either in shocked silence or demanding clarification. People were now asking for descriptions, for the spelling in the name, and throughout it all he was mute. He knew there was no other person he could be referring to, no matter how much he may want it.

Ever since he uttered that name, his mind started putting together the puzzle piece by piece. All of a sudden, Central 46's logic became clear. But more importantly, he was almost positive at the reason Momo was acting so unusual the last time he saw her. For the more he thought about the current situation, the more he tied it in to her mannerisms and her small little giveaways to her distress…it seemed to line up perfectly. Too perfectly.

It was almost like the fates themselves heard his inward desperate pleas for it not to be that way, for Yukio Kenryu spelled it out for them all; still being relatively calm amongst all of the demands "Do you really not understand? I am referring to Momo Hinamori, with the characters for "peach" in her first name and the meaning "young forest" for her last. She is young, has brown hair, brown eyes and a prim figure. What have I not made clear?"

He was sure the blood was draining from his face the more the moments ticked past. His breath seemed to be held in his figure, unwilling to leave his person as he maintained his stone still position.

'_So it's true…'_ he thought. Momo Hinamori is one of the rare souls that can send her consciousness to the depths of hell.

Amidst his inner turmoil, he could not even fathom what was going to come, or the horrors she may have to face. He didn't even know where she was right now, even though he now sincerely wished he did. He didn't know what he would say, but she deserved to be told something in regards to recent events, or—as he largely suspected—to give comfort if needed. Momo was obviously not oblivious to their decision, she knew about the verdict before even the captains did.

Yes. He did not know anything that could help.

He did not know about how her lungs were on fire, or how her muscles ached as she ran, in an area so far away from his perception. Many, many miles away, she was panting from exhaustion as she continued running, desperately seeking a place where she could have the leisure of quiet thought.

Her legs were terribly worn out but she didn't heed them any mind, not particularly caring for the state of her body so long as it continued to rapidly trudge her feet through the undergrowth of this forest and beyond. She does not quite remember the last time she felt so panicked, but she understood quite plainly that that that was what she was experiencing. Panic.

Her breath was coming out in ragged, unsynchronized pants; in part because she knew there was nothing she could do stop the oncoming events. Her hands frantically pushed away anyting that stood in her way; branches, leaves, she even ended up trying to push a tree trunk out of her way only to slightly scar her hand in the process.

It was indignant, what she was doing, frantically running like a lost child. But she truly couldn't help it. Despair has a tightening its grasp on her, and she would be damned if she sat by and took it.

She saw him. Yukio Kenryu. She has since struggled to bring her fast-beating heart under control. The only thing she was more ashamed of was the fact that she was blatantly afraid, even if it was for good reason. This fear drove her into abandoning her post with some lame excuse, only to run around in these woods that she hardly knew.

She recalled patrolling Street number forty-five in sector seven when she laid eyes upon his piercing golden orbs, she stood ridged as he discreetly formed a smirk as he passed by with his escorts; a small mockery at her crumbled belief that she was never to deal with him again.

He vocalized nothing, but his lips moved all the same, and she could 'hear' the words he was trying to convey. They were something he viewed as a courteous formality on his part, speaking words of lulled poison when no one could hear "Hello…. beautiful flower."

From that point on she didn't care if she left her squad abruptly, or if paperwork is left forgotten on her desk in this time of peril. She wanted, more than anything in the world, to have even the briefest of solace away from that man who made her crumble so easily.

Five minutes, she just wanted five minutes away. Away from the memories that started to creep onto her mind and the fears that were starting to drown her former steadfastness. She wanted to be away also, from his spiritual pressure. Even now, long after she fled its source, his reishi lingered on her, not intending to let go of this flower recently entangled, and even though it caused no physical pain, it still made her skin tingle, and encouraged memories and feeling to flood back into her, forcing her to watch and experience all that she has tried to bury.

"Subliminal messaging" some would call it. It probed at the borders of her unconsciousness even when she didn't realize it, only taking notice of unforeseen forces at play with her mind when it was too late.

These distractions made her ignore all the terrain even more, ignoring the roots that threatened to trip her or the dense branches in her way were starting to mar her face with miniscule scratches. The darkness of this night was only more pronounced as images and voices threatened to dominate her vision and leave render her blind to the forest of confusion she was already in. Trees were at times getting replaced with people, grass was getting confused with tile, and the cool night air could at times be perceived with the same temperature of early spring and wrought with the scent of early morning spring or instantly become damp cold with the stench of metallic rust and mold. But no matter where she turned or how hard she tried to shut it all out, no matter which crevice of her mind she tried to hide in or the memory she treid to retreat to…she always found those eyes of a golden glow would find her, and that it's gaze would submerge her in the same place she was trying to escape.

Out of everything that was fighting for her gaze, it was only the lingering moon that seemed to bring her any comfort; silently watching her struggle with its protective stare, it seemed to look on she went through the dimly illuminated night that battled for her attention. She bumped her shoulders on trees roughtly as she ran faster, her throat at times refused to take in the air that was laden with vibrant smells, and her feet became more and more weary as the texture of earth was randomly replaced with the feel and sound of smooth ceramic tile.

_What should I do….Tobiume….?_ She was desperate for advice. There were almost no options to choose from. Both running and hiding were no longer an option.

_Hinamori I-….I don't know….. _Tobiume seemed at a loss also, but desperately wanting to comfort her as she sensed the all too familiar pain whelp up inside of her wielder's chest. That feeling of utter helplessness.

At this, she made a sudden stop, her socks and sandals getting dirtied by the arising dust and dirt of her sudden action. Taking a large intake of breath as she lifted her head up, she looked up at what was left of her vision of reality; the cold impassive moon in the heavens.

Staring but not exactly seeing, she just simply stood there; doing nothing, feeling nothing and her thinking nothing. She was only blankly allowing her mind to wander about pasts forgotten.

She closed her eyes, tried her best to resume a proper line of thought, and sincerely tried to think. So far, apart from running and hiding, the only option she could perceive was allowing herself to become a tool to enter hell—an option that wanted avoid so desperately.

The smell of smoke and ash pervaded her nostrils and she snapped her eyes open in response, only to succumb to arduous coughing as the black fumes entered her lungs. This black air pervaded her being, being of such a foul composition that her body lurched toward the ground as she laid her arms over her sick stomach—the organ churning up at an intake of malignant fumes. The same polluted air stung her eyes and inflamed her skin, being far too raging hot for any person with flesh.

It had hurt to open her eyes to such unforgiving gasses, but her momentous intake at the sight made her want to keep them shut anyways; the trees, the birds, the ground and even the sky-all of it was submerged in raging writhing flames. The word seemed to have drowned in smoldering hot flurries and torrents of orange, red and black.

Even with her eyes closed she could still hear the destruction and turmoil around her through the ear splitting cracks of wood, the crackling of leaves being burnt to nothing, and the hissing of ravenously devoured structures as they began to be consumed by flame.

Her nose, still being invaded by obnoxious gaseous, pitch black air, also picked up the scent of smoldering ashes and the distinct, metallic, iron accentuated fumes of flesh. Of burning corpses and charred appendages.

She wanted to heave up her insides right then and there. Her knees became weak, succumbing to the shock of such a radical change in atmosphere, and the smoke only served to suffocate her more the longer she stayed there.

She then, for the first time in a long time, heard a most horrendous sound that was relatable to an animal wailing or howling with ravenous bloodlust. The head jarring, sense rendering sound made Momo cover her ears as it seemed to hone in on her, ringing in her ear drums like a terribly pitched scream. This was only met with searing pain all throughout her body, as if a hundred iron hot nails decided to skewer her at that precise moment. But it was the pain at her shoulder where it was the worst; like the very sinews of her muscles were be charred and set a flame, turning her blood into lava.

It was unbearable.

She screamed.

-X-

A/N:

The Naming Dillema: Ok, so I had a particularly hard time with translating Momo's name. But "雛森 桃" was/is relatively easy to decipher/translate. However, this is not the case for the character "Hina" (雛). Where I could easily find translations for "mori"(森) and "momo" (桃) where the possible translations were uniform in essence, "hina" was not.

For the character Hina (雛), I get results like "chick" (as in a young bird), "girl" and even "doll". After various searches, my endeavors provided little apart from the fact that the meaning and its use may depend on the context. While I could use the "doll" translation for a variety of writing purpose (that just sounds to so…Aizen related in a symbolic way), I would figure that Kubo would intend something more along the lines of the "young bird" or "young maiden" translations.

I decided upon the translation used based more along the lines of a whim. It is more inference based than any of the meanings provided. Both "young girl forest" and "young bird forest" seem a bit off. So does "forest of the young birds" and "forest of the young maidens". So perhaps the "girl" translation was merely referring to relative age in the sense of the feminine object, which, in certain Japanese beliefs, 'mori' (森) is typically considered feminine…


	3. Awaken

Flower In the Flames: Revised

Chapter 3: Awaken

-X-

The wooden doors were pushed aside quickly as Hitsugaya made his way down the hallways of squad four. He made no attempt to conceal his presence as he made brisk and quick steps that resounded on the wood, fullheartedly irritated at the fact that the use of shunpo was forbidden in these barracks.

Unohana had made it perfectly clear that such behavior would likely prove hazardous to the general duties of the fourth, as was proven when a rambunctious group of squad eleven soldiers toppled over Hanatorou, who was holding a tray of very expensive, very fragile, medicinal viles. Thenceforth, Unohana has had a no exceptions policy on the technique.

It did not take him long to reach his destination, his eyes already glancing at the doorway which was, not surprisingly, being guarded by a nurse. Such was the typical precaution taken when an occurrence like this happens. But he didn't quite expect her to immediately confront him upon his approach, blocking his path abruptly as she looked upon him with meek, concerned eyes. He gave her credit for her courage.

Being of the typical build that most female squad four members have, this girl had brown hair and dark blue eyes, and her stance told him that despite her anxiety, this girl took her profession seriously "I'm sorry Captain Hitsugaya, but lieutenant Hinamori is not allowed to have any visitors…normally I would make an exception and let you through but…this case in particular is…not normal…"

He stared at her, not bothering to make his gaze any less intimidating "In what way?"

She made a small squeak, as well as shuffled in her spot a bit "Um w-well….there a b-bite mark on her arm-"

His spiritual pressure spiked instantly, much too shocked and unprepared for the statement. His breath hitched for a moment, but he quickly forced himself to calm down; much too aware that he may cause a disturbance. As of yet, they had not made any public announcements on their decisions. To openly express concern and worry now may incite unease amongst the populace of soldiers who loitered around Seireitei.

But still, he now had possession of unceasing worry. There had been no word on any amount of hollow or enemy activity within all of the Soul Society, but apparently, that proved worthless. Somehow and somewhere, Hinamori has gotten bitten by an enemy that has so far been undetected. Even now, as they scrounge the place of her retrieval, they found no evidence of anything other than Hinamori herself being present at all. Indeed, had it not been for the wound itself, people would've thought that it was only Hinamori that was found in that clearing.

He closed his eyes as he took this in, before redirecting his attention to the unseated nurse before him, prompting her without spoken words to continue.

"S-she…has a small but deep bite mark on her arm…" She gestured toward her own shoulder, her wandering eyes telling him that she was looking for words, or perhaps inwardly debating at whether she should be telling him this information "—it's really deep and we can't find any animal that matches the bite mark…I'm not even sure if it was an animal…the marks were all randomly curved and the lengths were unpredictable-deformed even…"

His blood boiled, now already pinning blame on Kenryu. There was little logic that dictated he didn't have anything to do with it. So far, this "creature" seemed otherworldly, and the fact that it happened at this time of all times seems to indicate that hell was somehow involved. So it stood to reason also, that the criminal who specialized in hell, may have a connection.

He exhaled "Well that aside…how is she?" He eagerly waited for a response.

"She's in a stable condition and is now resting."

At this, he let himself be at ease. It was a far cry from her being healthy, but at least she wasn't in a critical position. A small sigh escaped his lips, only to be wryly reminded that Hinamori's situation as a whole was anything but "stable".

Giving one last glance at her door, and the nurse who guarded it, he turned away. He could sense her spiritual pressure, and for now, at least, that was enough for him. He made a mental note to check back in on her, however; somehow even her being in the middle of the medical division served little to calm his fear that she may come in harm's way. Obviously it had already been demonstrated that nowhere is safe.

'_First things first…'_ he decided _'I should have a little talk with this…Yukio Kenryu'._

With these last thoughts in mind, he saw fit to Shunpo over to the First Division the moment his feet were out of the healing department.

-X-

What she felt was the softness of the comfortable, fluffed mattress of the finest quality. What she smelled was the scent of lavender, always being given by a lit stick incense that never failed to grace her room. The same room that held blue wall paper of a relatively plain design, and was adorned with pink flowers in every porcelain vase, which only accentuated the purple linen drapes that bellowed slightly over the fake window. Her large bed, with more than enough space to change position at any time she pleased, was covered in sheets of white and gold; a rather constant mockery to her often tired and disheveled state at the end of the day even though it offered nothing but comfort in its embrace.

She was lying on that bed, her eyes just staring at the ceiling blankly, her thoughts were long held amiss as she tried, however diligently, to try and rearrange her tumultuous memories and sensations—each of which refused to leave her psyche the majority of the time, and she found that she could not simply ignore either.

The lines that formed the creases of the bed's comforter only accentuated her exceedingly small frame, barely being three feet in length. The hair that was splayed all over the pillows were as soft as silk from constant washing and deep conditioning. He eyes, often wide with unfathomable horror, were chocolate brown.

Momo Hinamori was a child in this memory.

The large doors, thick and imposing in her point of view, gave way to a resounding knock on its surface. It was mere gesture of courtesy before Yukio Kenryu just walked right on in, not even waiting for any sort of response. With a serving tray in hand, he advanced toward her with her usual breakfast of bacon, eggs, pancakes and a glass of water. He seemed mindful of not teetering in his eager steps, taking mind of how easily his white robe may get stained; which was speckled with dashes of blue designs of some sort of flower. He gathered that she felt better if he was out of his usual working garments "Hello young flower. I trust you slept well."

His seemingly kinds words seemed nullified by his actions; putting the tray on the nightstand as he eagerly waited for her to get up no matter her tiredness—a rather enforced expectation upon his entering of the room. He simply watched as she hobbled to sit up first, her arms limply hanging as her back arched its way up. Then he seemed to gaze harder as she drolly forced her numb legs to the edge of the bed before forcing them to set their tired feet to the ground. Finally, she robotically commanded herself to stand, her swaying and unsteady body only paying testament to its exhaustion; but in the end, she felt little. Her eyes were going about its usual, lifeless scans, only to revert to looking at the ground when she couldn't bear to hold her own head.

Pleased with her progress, the man gingerly took grasp of the glass on the tray, using his lithe finger to turn her sunken head back up towards him, who was towering over her. The smile was genuine in its own way, but not in the way that a father or even a friend smiles to their lower counterpart. He was happy, that much she knew, yet as he directed his smile toward her, she always felt like he was only smiling to himself, and she should be thrilled to have the pleasure of this smile being shown to her. It was a rather shallow smile of pure indulgence. "Now open up wide."

He steadily brought the glass up to her lips, which obligingly opened to partake in the tasteless nourishment of hydration; the only pauses that were took were when she was gulping as much liquid as she could intake. Almost immediately after that he wordlessly began stabbing the eggs, his whole hand smoothly taking hold of her entire jaw, as if ready to jerk it open if she dared close her mouth that he insisted be gaping at the promise of food. She didn't bother to taste anything, not really. From the crispy bacon to the sickeningly sweet flapjacks, she only mutely opened her mouth, chewed and swallowed.

Her being spoon fed, it seemed, was a rather simple pleasure of his. The entire time he went about his usual practice, he watched her with subtle fascination; he didn't even care that she was acting more like a lifeless rag doll than an actual human soul. On the contrary, he was quite pleased with her current demeanor, he had such an obedient little flower—and he saw to it that she is well taken care of.

After all was said and done, there was only a brief pause as her slowly lead her out of the room, grasping her tiny, little hand as he goaded the constant movement of her tired limbs. His arm was like a leash, he was always prepared to drag her away forcefully, but figured himself nigh above just doing it without so much as a mutter.

In truth, she felt like she wanted to sleep forever, but she found that she should always heed this man's pull on her; and seldom ever did she ask herself 'why'. It just was, and her mind was far too weary to think on it. Her logic was more along the lines of getting the whole thing over with so that she may return to those sheets. Sometimes she wished that those same sheets would one day gain a heart and smother her in its soft embrace when she slept.

For the tiniest of a second, her walk faltered, adding a slight bit of pressure on Yukio to hoist her up to regain balance "Oh how careless of me! No—how utterly rude of me! Making such a fragile thing walk on these putrid floors!"

The said floors were always spotless, constantly being cleaned and swept at least twice a day by his staff. In these dismal hallways of dull grey and white, cleanliness was an enforced attribute. But it didn't particularly matter when he simply grabbed her position to be cradled in his arms, looking down upon her as if she was in the most secure place in the world. His smile, still plastered on his face, seemed to deepen a bit he made his way down the hallway more quickly, no longer being fettered by the girl's own lack of speed.

Along the way, guards that were typically positioned at various intervals of the hallway followed the two of them in a practiced formation upon their approach; their uniform gear of black garb bearing an imposing presence on anyone who happened to cross their path.

More than a few doors were opened by them, allowing her and Kenryu to pass through undeterred, but he slowed down considerably after a few twists and turns in the numerous unlit hallways. Hence they came to a door just like all of the others, stainless grey and featureless. Upon its opening however, it held an attribute that few other doorways had—it lead downward. It lead to a foreboding sight of pitch black nothing; the endless shadows hungrily scarfing down anything that it went across. Including light and the features of the ground, making the entire idea of making one's way down there seem incredibly dangerous—or at least not advisable.

She had long since tried to make herself feel nothing, but as she looked into the gapping maw of the abyss, a distinct grip of fear cloaked and wrapped itself onto her now constricting heart. Her blood now beginning to race, the only visible sign of her encroaching distress was how tightly she clutched the cloth of Kenryu's clothing. He didn't acknowledge it as he walked down, whispering a few words of incantation to create a ball of kido to light his way.

Only a mere minuet elapsed before she was carried into a room; lit and left illuminated by the numerous candles that laid on the desk and walls. It was a prison that they called a "detainment hold"; with numerous cells of wrought iron lining the walls in an organized line of structure. On the other wall laid numerous cabinets and drawers, each of which were stocked with chemicals, syringes, and other materials of the sort. But the most defining feature of that wall was large case that was hidden behind two of the upper cabinets, being protected a by barrier and a few technological sensors. In its safe encasement was a long sword, tangled in its long tail of white cloth that was attached to its hilt as it wrapped long the length of the blade.

She had the urge to cry, but her tears had been shed so many times that there was simply nothing left to release. So her body settled for shivering as Kenryu swung open the nearest cell, placing her on the specially made mattress that he arranged to be placed there. He almost instinctively plied her grasping fingers from his person, still holding a small smile as if he was about to release her into a wonderful playground of some sort.

Lacking her former clutch, her fingers practically dug into the mattress, leaving little imprints on the small sinews of its lining. One of the guarding men from before drifted toward her, with Kenryu hardly registering his presence as he took a rigid stance right by her lowered form, dwarfing her in comparison. Hearing the rusty twist and cragged click of the cell's audible lock made her feel even more wretched; being able to neither scream out with lungs nor shed audible sobs. All the while Kenryu looked like he was taking a leisurely stroll with the way he sauntered over to his meager desk, pulling out his usual instruments of study: a pen and a notepad.

Taking a glance down at the notes from the previous day, he slumped into the chair before straightening his posture "The activities for today will be a little different, dear flower." He scribbled down some words on the small paper he held "Instead of going to the third level, we shall try level five…or perhaps six. But we shall be cautious when you're in the fiery place, right?"

It was more like a hidden order when he said that, always expecting her to perform to the upmost of her ability. He always figured himself cautious, always taking precautions and extra steps to ensure the validity of his experiments. But her? She often times suspected that he viewed her as the only potential flaw in his design—a flaw that was simultaneously the most vital part of his procedures. With all of his gushing and small caresses on her face, she had to remind herself that he valued for her for one reason, and one reason only. But he always insisted on her bettering herself in some manner.

This terrified her. She felt like she was crumbling on the inside despite the fact that she had to be more durable now than ever. But the submerging, slithering tendrils of fear dug deep into her; and Kenryu was either completely oblivious or simply didn't care. No, he merely walked over the cabinet as her muttered a few words to himself, picking up the bound sword as if it was a quaint little blossom as brandished it around for a few seconds, unwind the cloth to reveal the pitch black blade as he approached the cage that he called a detainment cell "We will use this more effectively today. There will be a little bit more gushing blood and maybe a bigger cut to heal but otherwise it's the same."

His grin, already small as it exuded its unheard taunting, widened a little bit farther as an idea caught his passing fancy "But…I really want to test the effects if the cut is made to flower who isn't in a calm state before departure. Tell you what, if you're a good girl then I'll let you keep the blade. Until I need it of course. Further, I will restrain its usage so that I'll only use it on you. I think it works better if it hones in on one person."

The idea only came to him a few moments ago, yet he sounded like he planned it from the beginning.

The guard, who had been deathly silent up till this point with his ever watchful position within her room of iron bars, wordlessly snatched her arms right then and there. His weight and his strength were obviously superior, and he seemed to waste little effort as he easily restrained her and pinned her down on the white, slightly stained mattress. It all occurred so suddenly, she ended up instinctively thrashing and squirming with his intentionally rough and crushing grasp.

But it was futile, she was like a cat at the mercy of a giant in comparison. He even had the ability to use one of his larger hands to grasp her tiny wrists together, and use the other to extend his hand toward Kenryu, who gave him the black instrument of her torment.

She would've screamed, but Kenryu would make it worse if she did.

The man that was practically on top of her raised the blade high and higher, his eyes wandering every now and against to pinpoint where he should strike. He was not supposed to inflict a fatal wound or anything, but he was supposed to cause a sufficient amount of pain. He brought the blade down in a flash, the cold black steel only slightly gouging itself right through the skin and a little toward the heart. Barely even a few millimeters in, she guessed. But it still held the effect of giving her some amount of pain. Most of it came from shock that this little girl could hardly learn to handle.

But that pain meant nothing in the face of the pain that she felt now. Well, not necessarily the searing pain of blade, but it was the prickling pain of imminent injury. The heat practically licked at her tender skin, as if it was only waiting to swallow her whole in its immense, raging heat as the flames before her danced more furiously that ever. The leapt toward the sky, and to her vision, seemed to be climbing its heights like an unstoppable hoard. They swarmed over the ground and jumped into the world through the earth's tiniest crevices, slithering every which way as they whipped around and gnawed at anything it could burn, reducing anything it could into incomprehensible ash that it consumed. It seemed to encompass everything, but even though it went about its impassioned rampage, tearing and burning asunder virtually everything that it could burn, Momo saw the typical sight of ash that it merely had little interest in. But it still had remnants of ember, and the entre look of it still held the same despicable sight of nasty hues of grey, brown and other sludge-like colors that never quite seemed to be purged from the substances. Some was arranged on the ground like dirt, but there was still some form of structure sticking out of it every now and again, almost as if the flames got to them so quickly that were cremated on the spot and left a hallow standing shell of hot, dry rubbish. Some of it looked like black ash-covered bones, others like standing needles.

But all of it sizzled and crackled under the intense heat, each pile giving off a certain amount of black huffs and even darker smoke trails as they remained, the light of their continually burning ember travelling carelessly and without aim as they continued ravishing whatever they could muster.

In it all she found that her heart was beating incessantly, and her sizzling hairs were on end as she felt her skin starting to blister. The heat itself seemed to absorb her sweat, and he heaving provided little but a more starched throat, the hot air practically sucking up all the moisture it could from her throat.

She could hear nothing beyond the splintering, ear-shattering chaos, and yet she was aware of the increased shuffling that was causing the undisturbed ashes to crumble away and collapse under its own weight, giving faint huffs and poofs as the impoverished air started to escape its hollow prison. The sound itself was like they were sifting through glass, or grinding through rusted metal or treading in the woods and snapping branches, but it was fast moving.

And it was starting to become louder and even more incomprehensible as the sounds seemed to mesh together in disharmony—meaning that there was more than 'one thing' moving. They made their presence quite clear, or rather, they simply didn't bother to hide it.

It was a lot for her to take in. Too much. Too sudden. She was already shivering by the time she began to distinguish the growls and grunts from the crackles of the flames.

It was at that time that she first saw and experienced what she eventually called a "Burning Ash Corpse".

They can be described as their given name sounds:

_Burning._ The flames that are within them makes their eyes glow with a dreadful fire as their breath is boiling hot on the skin as they breathe out horrid, burnt fumes of charred blood and purged filth.

_Ash._ Their whole body seems to be made of it, it hangs on their twisted limbs and it comes out of their mouths, and when they touch you the ash burns your very skin as it marks you with incoherent smudges of waste and cinder.

_Corpse_. They seemed to create themselves from whatever dead thing they can get their ash on. They take whatever they can; whether it be cracked, crippled, twisted and it can be from any animal; anything that can die; they can make a part of themselves. Making them deformed and come in an almost unpredictable appearance. They all gaped at anything that had anything that wasn't burnt beyond recognition.

Momo first saw those horribly deformed creatures as one of them lunges at her arm. The sensation of fire soared through her blood. Another at her leg and made her think that she was being burnt alive. Another was at her stomach, as if it wanted to partake in ripping up her tender internal organs as if heaved its foul breath into her system. The entire mass of them surrounded her as she screamed in unbearable pain and her eyes, long deprived of tears, merely began to falter in vision in compensation for her cracking mind as her limbs were practically being ripped apart.

That is, until Yukio woke her, the terrible wounds manifesting itself on her real body. Bleeding profusely as it gurgled and spouted forth the metallic liquid as its vessel was marring punctured. Yukio and his assistants healed them after many hours of hard work-always redoing the bandages and trying healing kido at every available opportunity, all the while injecting her small form with every manner of drug and antithetic. Wounds received from these beasts cannot be healed easily, he discovered. And Momo….she was more mentally scared than ever, and because of that, she rendered herself more like a lifeless doll than she had previously, and acted more lifeless than ever as she laid in a coma for two long agonizing months.

**-x-**

The head captain was sitting, but not in the usual grand and ceremonial chair that he was used to, being far from the squad one meeting hall. Rather, he was situated in a plain chair built for common people, being meager in structure and not having the luxury of being decorated in any way. But it was normal seeing how the chair belonged to squad four and was only meant to allow for passing rests and visiting hours, which was, oddly enough, what he and the rest of the captains were doing. It was unusual for all for the captains of the Gotei thirteen to be stuffed into such a small room, but he was inwardly glad that Unohana arranged for the now sleeping Hinamori to be moved to the largest healing quarters available.

But still, they had been waiting for more than forty minutes, and the healer assured them that the girl would wake up at some point today "When is she going to awaken?" He was pretty sure the so far peaceful silence of co-existing captains would not last much longer, as a great variety of captains already were irritated enough as it is, waiting for a mere lieutenant to wake up from her rather untimely injury.

The issue of time demanded that they meet and speak with her as soon as possible, but unfortunately, it would seem that she was unfit to walk and present herself before them. Indeed, Unohana made it clear that she would prefer, for the better quality of their mission she claimed, that Momo not be forced out of her hospital bed with her given condition. But in truth, she just wanted to be cautious, even she was unsure of the various intervals that could complicate the young girl's state of health. So therefore, the captains ended up sauntering over the healing division to forcefully wait for a person who may not even wake up today, despite Unohana's prediction.

Most of them had been patient thus far, if you exclude Kurotsuchi, but some were not so much patient as much as they were undisturbed by their location; Kenpachi was taking a nap on the large sofa provided, and Shunsui was leaning on the windowsill as he leisurely drank a cup of sake. Other captains like Komamora, Hitsugaya and Byakuya were merely standing in silence.

During their continued wait however, certain captains like Soi Fon took it upon themselves to not sit so idly; already she had sent word for Onmitsukido guards to take positions outside of Hinamori's door and window. Unohana had prepared specialized teams for any occurrence that may happen to the patient.

Hitsugaya was only standing in silent vigil, displeased at the very idea that Momo was to be burdened with their presence upon awakening, their existence in this room marking imminent decisional action that would be laid upon her already burdened person. He was surprised when he heard about this special meeting, being interrupted in his goal to visit Kenryu in his cells, but wasted no time in being among the first to arrive.

It took about three hours for everyone else to turn up—a rather surprising time, considering that it usually takes at least six for all of them to gather. But then, they had be explicitly ordered to wait for further instruction form the head captain, and that put everyone on high alert.

His original inquiry with the head captain was put to rest almost instantly on his reasoning that they were in a time pressing situation so they had to act as quickly as possible, despite how shaken up Momo most likely is.

'_Not even the leisure of a day of well-deserved reprieve?'_ He inwardly snorted _'Ridiculous'_

It also didn't help that Yukio was also present, being closely watched by both Soi Fon and Kurotsuchi (he had nothing better to do) as he was restrained in the corner. His silence was marked by his smaller smile, trying to be discrete amongst these shinigami, his eyes never leaving Momo's form. He recognized that blank expression and the way her hands were clinched into small fist. He knew.

Being forever clam, Unohana replied to Yamamoto's question "It was only an estimated guess that she would wake up today, we can't expect her to wake up before she is ready to. If we must, we shall leave her to her rest until tomorrow. Please be patient."

More waiting? The head captain would rather send the captains back to take command of their respective squads, but he knew that every captain had executed their precautions to near perfection; even squad eleven was properly situated for any threat that may pop up. Quite frankly, they had nothing better to do than wait.

The head captain did a slight nod "I see…" He then peered toward the ever-silent Kenryu and raised his voice slightly "I noticed that you seem to be in a happier mood. What is it that's so interesting to you?"

He had long noticed his rather lofty spiritual pressure for a while now, as have others, but they remained silent.

He spared him a look, but replied cheerily all the same "Oh it's just the newfound freedom of the world. Barely anything you should concern yourself with." He smirked.

Once again, Hitsugaya casted him a side glance, not trusting him in the slightest. To be blunt, his mere existence infuriated him. His sins were already many in addition to what he had (likely) done to Momo, and he considered that the gravest sin of all. "Is Momo the only 'flower' you has possession of? Your special notice of her is quite noticeable."

It was meant to be not-so-direct way of signaling a warning to the condemned prisoner, but instead Yukio talked back as if it was a regular question like how the weather was "She was actually the third I found at that time. So if you count the other times when they surface…that would make her the eighth in total. She was also the last to remain as well." He met Hitsugaya's hard, dagger-throwing stare "—and as to why I treat her with more attention is because she's special. More special than the others. Is it not natural then to give her preferential treatment? Or would you rather I leave her out in a gutter or something? Like a miserable mutt, perhaps?"

At that last statement Hitsugaya squinted his eyes slightly, and further, made him shift his weight off the wall he was leaning on.

'_Truly…what a despicable wretch…'_ he was sure that the others wouldn't mind if he ruffed him up a bit, even in here. The man was quite in the position to be taught manners by this point, intentionally riling his superiors intentionally like that.

But such intentions were dissipated when he was aware of something stirring, the ruffling of soft sheets alerting him to movement on the hospital bed.

His eyes instantly shifted toward Hinamori, seeing her arms move groggily as her eyes, still closed, darted every which way. It was quite obvious that she was in a nightmare of some sort, incomprehensible murmurs coming out of her mouth with a few impoverished heaves of breath.

The unconscious squirming only got worse the more he let her be, with her legs now starting to become just as groggily restless as her arms, not being able to identify dream from reality.

He strode over to her side, his hand gently being placed on her forehead "Do you think we should wake her up?"

The healer captain was not far behind, her eyes peering at her patient. "Yes, I think we should."

He lightly nudged her shoulder, only increasing its force when it proved ineffective. For what seemed like the longest time to him, she was stuck in that tumultuous stupor—stuck in her unconscious turmoil.

He gave one more nudge, a bit harder this time, only to be met with a body that suddenly sprang into life; her mouth wide open as she gasped for air, her pupils dilated into saucers, her form slightly trembling from what was her unconscious endeavors.

He was instantly there, taking a firm hold on her shoulders as he met her gaze, which was laden with a haze that could not particularly see what was in front of her for a moment. "Momo, what's wrong?"

A few seconds more and she began to see, steadily studying her surroundings; all of the stares that were on her and the blank whiteness of the hospital walls. A few seconds after that did her body start to steadily shake less and less, her past fears starting to ebb away from immediate attention, being instead replaced with her current position and the implications of them. The captains' presences, her bed in the hospital, the monitors that lined the wall to her left…and the lone figure who stood in the corner with golden, gleaming eyes.

-X-

A/N: The ending was changed to reflect less on everyone else's worry on Hinamori and more onto how much worry Hinamori herself was feeling, which, I hope, was a good enough decision considering the contents of the next chapter.

I also hope I still made Kenryu seem arrogant, but more 'classy' about it as well. Seemed better than his near oblivious character in the original.


	4. Delve

Flower In the Flames: Revised

Chapter 4: Delve

_The reason I did so well after Sousuke betrayed me is because it wasn't hell…_

_I lived on because I was sure hell would never be in my world again….because I was sure I could look to a bright future…_

_But here I am…in hell again…_

_-Momo Hinamori_

-X-

After in taking more than a few cups of water at Unohana's behest, Momo was much calmer after a few minutes being left to her private thoughts. Though Unohana made several unspoken gestures for the others to make themselves scarce, they seemed quite intent on not leaving her alone in the room, still ominously standing or lying around the room as many watched her with inquisitive eyes and turbulent thoughts—the only courtesy they were willing to give was unfettered silence.

This was fine in Momo's perspective. Unbeknownst to them, she relished in the water she was allowed to drink, it being immensely satisfying as it drenched her water-deprived throat from the lingering heat of her 'dream'. It was a relief in and of itself.

The captains were now all aligned, each and every one very much awake and aware. Loitering in their respective places, many of which were out of her immediate vision, they waited. They were waiting to hear an order. To hear her speak. Some sign that they were to continue their actions to face the crisis that involved hell's gaping maw.

In particular however, they were waiting from any signal of any sort from the head captain, who wisely remained immobile since her awakening. His motionless limbs were still perched on his wooden cane, and he himself was still immovably situated in a chair that he has yet to arise from. His only detectible action was watching, giving a large amount of attention to the girl on the white sheets and draped in a hospital gown.

Hitsugaya was quite frustrated on the inside, now being pristinely aware of what would likely come within the next few hours…or even in the next few minutes. He was ready to speak on her behalf, but if the head captain gave an order he was expected to complete it without hesitation. He didn't know if he could do that if her situation turned into anything that involved detainment of her person. The heavy silence in the room only seemed to agree with that sentiment, and unlike him, most of the captains were more than willing to take any steps that were required of them.

But all he could do for right now was watch. Watch and hope that no matter her disposition or struggle she would at least be treated cordially and not like a dangerous influence that had to be kept under strict supervision and guard.

He was surprised however, when she did decide to speak, and it anything but "unwilling".

"I can guess what you want me to do." Surprisingly, she looked at the head captain head on, reminding Hitsugaya of the passionate girl who would stand up to just about anyone if someone were to hit a nerve. He knew Byakuya could attest to this quality.

She was still, however, no matter how much she tried to suppress it, still shivering. An action that perhaps prompted Kenryu's next snide outburst "You're not going to decline…are you?"

Hitsugaya snorted, once again looking toward him with blatant signs that he wanted him to shut his unpopular mouth.

But it seemed that he wasn't the one to voice out his discontent with the man's presence, instead being spoken by the barbaric brute of a man that calls himself Kenpachi "Tch! Why is Kenryu here? We already know how to send her there." Hitsugaya couldn't tell if he truly tired of the man or simply disliked him because of his obvious effect on Momo—a person who was perhaps, the only durable common playmate with Yachiru. Others always seemed to get injured or thrown off by her overbearing childish antics.

The head captain relied curtly, careful to keep his voice relatively low "Because in case anything happens then he'll be able to take immediate action."

Kenpachi made a loud "Tch" sound before he turned his head.

It was the rattling of glass that returned their attention toward Momo, who quickly grasped better control of her clutch on the clear cup she held, and took a deep breath to regain her composure, trying her best to look like the ideal fifth squad lieutenant. "I take it you chose it because there really is no other option…."

Her voice almost seemed so childish, being essentially meek and timid despite her countenance. Had the situation not been so grave he would've scoffed at the girl before him who all of a sudden seemed like she was wearing her parents clothing.

But, as was how the Soul Society was set up, age was inferior to prowess at times, and thus Hinamori was put up to the rank of lieutenant. Out of all of them, with the exception of Yachiru, Momo was the one who stood out the most. She was small, barely even half the height of the majority of other lieutenants. She gave off little in terms of superiority or intimidation, a stark contrast to the other hard-edged males of the same rank. But more than anything else, she was the most unlikely to bore any ill-intent toward even the most hostile of enemies; she looked sooner to hug a person rather than raise a blade.

If anyone that was not of Seireitei were to come in right now and look at this spectacle, that person would say they saw a "poor child" on the bed, being surrounded by the sternest of the captains.

The head captain lowered his wrinkled eyes "Unfortunately, yes."

She let out a deep sigh, leaning back on the plushed up pillows that covered the headboard of her bed "I see…" She then closed her eyes, as if giving herself a reassuring process of thoughts that would see her through "So…when do I start?"

He would admire her courage more if he understood her reasoning a bit more. Did she not know that the decision could entail? Or the pain that it would likely cause. He himself may not know the details, but anything regarding hell was bound to be burdensome for whomever had to deal with it and…seeing as how Momo seemed to have predicted the outcome, it should be especially known to her as to how dangerous the situation may be.

He let his eyes harden on her form, still essentially a shaky mess contained in a fragile vessel that tried to remain strong. His mind knew that she was skilled and a self-capable tactician, but the more he looked at her, the less this seemed to be true. Which was why he inwardly cringed at the head captain's answer.

"Today. Whenever you feel you re fit enough to do so." The old man slightly swerved his head to look at Kenryu, his spiritual pressure, calm and restrained for the most part, all of sudden turned a bit heavier with a stern undertaking "and from now on, I shall commend you to captain Hitsugaya's care. It is to my understanding that the process is difficult once initiated. Therefore I see it fit to place under a cautious watch, which I believe Hitsugaya is well apt for. He will be the one to have the final say on any precautions or other decisions that regard you. No one else, aside from me myself, will have any authority on the matter. But they do have permission to advise, I trust he will listen to all council." He said it loud enough for everyone to hear.

Hitsugaya's grip, once clenched into a tight fist, was released when the old man finished speaking. He was grateful that he had listened to his request at least, much to worried as to what may happen to her when the process whatever that was) began. At least now he has a sizable amount of control on her circumstances, but he knew he had to be ever vigilant with the situation at hand. A catch that he was more than willing to abide to as he already intended on keeping a watchful eye on Hinamori anyways.

Him asking the head captain for her to be transferred to his care was a relatively abrupt proposal, being asked by Hitsugaya not too long after news of this meeting reached him. It was short sequence of words, with but a few strings of reasoning, but he believed the old man saw his concern. It was only a natural idea to have someone take careful care of the person who would essentially be used by them to end hell's crisis. He had yet to arrange her living preparations in his squad, or any other accommodations for that matter.

He didn't really think much of it though, as he was going to set those up immediately the moment he is released from this meeting. Looking at her now, he determined that he will take her over his squad as soon as all this formality was over and done with; he was sure Unohana would agree with the various amount of patients around that were sensitive to turbulent reiatsu. It would be best to keep her near the able bodied instead of the burdened.

'_I should be able start the process in about five to ten minutes.'_ He though, seeing as how the meeting was nearing its close. Her first "delve" to hell he estimated to be anywhere within the next two to eight hours, in that time he will see to it that everything is prepared for her upmost comfort.

But then he heard the soft moving of sheets as he watched Momo pull herself out of bed ""I'll do it right now. If it's acceptable I mean…" the words came out of her mouth slightly haggard, as if, somehow, her voice her words where in and of themselves wrong. She found the sound awkward, quite perturbed at the current state of affairs.

Mouth left agape, Hitsugaya took one hesitant step back, much to weary of her condition—the bandages on her arm were only too visible to him, and they still had red stains lining the threads at certain intervals. He cringed at the metallic scent that occasionally wafted into his nostrils. He understood that healing kido wasn't working as intended, but he didn't expect the wounds to be steadily seeping.

The head captain was silent for a bit, mulling over her words. Even though Unohana had basically cleared her—albeit reluctantly—for at least some form of action beyond her barracks, but her mental condition and actual physical status was essentially up for question. They still did not understand the specifics of her attack, nor who or what was the perpetrator behind it. They did not know the peculiar qualities of her wound nor if it has any lingering effects It was unknown if she would render herself too exhausted if she did it now. Or should he wait and hope she will regain more vitality?

But her eyes held hopeless desperation, a sure sign that perhaps she knew more about the situation than she was willing to tell. In which case, then she herself is acknowledging that prolonging her journey would do nothing…or was she just that desperate to get the whole thing over with?

Hitsugaya lightly grabbed her shoulder "I think you should actually rest a little longer…"

She didn't respond. She seemed engrossed with some nonexistent peculiarity on the head captain's shoulder—apparently not willing to meet his eyes.

Silence again, the air of contemplation was laid thick over the room. But a suggestion was voiced from Byakuya, who spoke for the first time since the meeting's progression "Perhaps we should just send her for five minutes at most. I believe that will be an ample amount of time ascertain the basics of the strain of the voyage and other effects. From that we can ascertain the situation better and then take procedures to ensure a higher success rate.

The was a quiet chorus amongst the room as the suggestion was being considered—it was favored apparently, because not a single person voiced any opposition. Slow but cautious seemed to be the preferred first step.

Everything after that was a relative blur. The process of arrangements for her first delve into hell could be summarized in just two sentences. Momo was moved to another room. A room that held nothing accept four stable walls with no windows and a door.

Her walk to the said room was more like an escort of the upmost importance, with at least two captains beside her, another two captains in front of her and yet another pair behind her. The six of them were organized around her like an organized palanquin guard. Squad four members were deported from the area five minutes before her departure by the order of Soi Fon, and the only ones left were the hand-picked healers Unohana requested to be nearby in the event of injury. They waited outside the room where she would begin the process, and would be called in immediately if anything arose. She knew that the protection was a precaution, a reasonable one at that, but as she walked down those halls she felt…exceedingly small. The captains practically dwarfed her in size, and each were exuding a stern type of spiritual pressure that almost made her think she was being brought to a trial that involved the crime of a most heinous treason. The only person who was possibly a much sterner watch was Kenryu, who had three captains beside and behind him. Yet he seemed content.

The room was barren, and the only person waiting inside the room was messenger. A messenger that carefully presented a blade to the line of captains that filed in; a blade wrapped in a bone-white cloth that looked as if it had been freshly dug up from a morbid grave as it crudely gave an appearance of vehemence. What black of the blade she could see peeked out tauntingly from the sinews of the cloth, as if only waiting for a chance to lunge out of its paper thin restraints.

There was a momentous silence as the captains considered just who would be the one to do it—send her to hell. As she was situated to sit on the floor, there were inquisitive glances between the captains as they regarded each other with nearly awkward proposition, all of them were foreign to using an blade that was not their own and not exactly everyone was attuned to the idea of consciously making a decision to use a cursed blade on the person who was practically prostrated before them as a sacrificial lamb.

They loomed over her like a set of towers now, and as spiritually aware beings they knew that the blade that excluded a nearly hollow-like wave of reiatsu—reiatsu that coiled around their beings like invisible testing tendrils—that the blade that was waiting to be used was indeed from sin.

Soi Fon leered at it for a moment, then at Momo, who, even to the eyes of one of the shortest of the captains, looked like a miniscule scared kid in comparison to her, and started to bring her hand forward. If anyone was to make a precise cut of the most miniscule scope, it could be her. It was a necessary action in her mind.

But before her hand could even touch the hilt, it was grasped away by Kurotsuchi's pale hand. Eyes slightly bulging, and his teeth lightly grinding, he looked furiously impatient "Why is this taking so long?! I'll do it myself!"

His sudden outburst was coupled with a fast expansion toward Hinamori, his hand already arching upward as the while cloth pooled off the revealed blade that seemed to hiss in satisfaction as the white bonds slid of its sleek metal.

But he barely made two steps forward before his arm was roughly grabbed. The grip obviously held anger and contempt, as it made no effort to not cancel the circulation of blood that should be coursing through it. Kurotsuchi was not surprised to find Hitsugaya was the one to give him a vice grip, who was currently giving him a most vicious and intense stare with his voice ominously low "Not one more step toward her."

He snorted "Well someone has to do it. We have wasted enough time….do you want to be the one to do the deed, perhaps?"

The tenth squad captain inwardly cringed at the idea, but refused to flinch in the presence of this man. Instead, he mutely stared at him, unwilling to open his mouth to respond at the horrid suggestion.

But he didn't have to. Just as quickly as it has been taken away from her vision, Soi Fon quickly reclaimed the sword. Just as quickly had she done that, she used flash step, and before anyone could even blink, they hear small shrill cry from Momo's position.

Turning their heads to the sound, they found Momo now splayed on the floor unconscious, with an obvious wound, now bleeding slightly, emanating from her arm. The energy spewed forth from the blade whose end was now slightly coated with blood, was also despicably prominent.

The moment Momo felt anything on her person, it was instantly replaced with another sensation. In fact, everything about her senses was being replaced with another variety of sensation.

Her eyes saw a world with a sky tainted with fiery red fumes, an air that crackled and harshly sizzled and she felt the devastating heat to the point that he skin instantly felt dry. A millisecond after that, the heat seemed to be enough to make her skin peel, as if it had just now registered her presence and decided to come upon her in full force.

_How is it…that I always end up here again…?_

She was actually able to think past the fear that resided in her head. The black clouds lay thick inside her head as her breaths came in rasping pants.

The heat was almost unbearable, her body already felt like it was going to melt and peel away till she was nothing but the incomprehensible ashes and bits that lay upon the ground.

She gulped, trying her best to remember the reason she came here. It was to find the kuseiko wasn't it?

Her first flashes of memory in response to the idea made her remember the times when she woke up in the detainment cells with some burnt relics. Or the few times ash was inexplicably smeared on her person after her time with Kenryu's experiments.

It seemed that it was possible for more than physical wounds to return with the consciousness from hell. She remembered how excited Kenryu was, always cherishing whatever she brought back, even if it was essentially useless.

She reluctantly opened her eyes again, only opening in slits as the twirling debris threatened to taint her vision. She now endlessly shivered, knowing all too well of what she was going to have to do if she were to reach the coveted item.

She was going to have to take a step forward.

In all of her time spent here, she never even took so much as one step away from whatever position she ended up on. She always became rooted to the spot. Always, and without exception, all she did was wait. Waiting for….anything really. Anything to happen. Anything to get her out of this hell.

She looked toward the ground—that ruined ground of charred bones, ruined pieces of flesh and disfigured mounts of ash and heated decomposition. The heated sensation in her waraji only became more prominent as she stood there, offering little to no protection. What was to happen if she took a step?

Would she burn?

Would something come out of the ground to harm her?

….Would the flames devour her?

Regardless, she has been ordered to retrieve the kuseiko and in order to that….she had to move; to take the first, frightening, foreboding step in hell.

She took it slowly; despite her body telling her not to. She then took another step, then another….then another. The flames seemed to be drifting toward her as she did so, almost like they were just waiting for her to get close enough for them to touch her. They reminded Hinamori of eager fingers that wanted to touch something new.

Every step she made was couples with prominent sounds of crushing, breaking and splintering, and all the while she found that the heat was ever-present as it licked her skin. She cringed at every bone that seemed to crack beneath her weight, and the miserable shattering sounds of material that rung in her ears.

But then her ears alighted on the familiar sounds of slithers, the kind that trudged through the wastes without heed. Then the sounds of relentless trudging with coupled roars, the kind the bespoke of persevering hunger and deep hatred.

Her entire body stiffened at the approach, registering the presence with the appropriate response of a momentous stillness as she paid attention of their probable position.

She was present: the prey. They were also present: the predators. The only thing you can possibly depict from the arrival of the two is simply "hunt".

It was always plainly obvious what the concept meant. She was to run, and if she was caught, she would die.

Therein she found her body maneuvered by the most basic of instincts; to flee. Somehow the relentless burns and crisps on her body were negligible as her body became pumped with adrenaline. With them behind her, she could only hope she was fast enough to outpace their movements.

Momo's heart was beating hard; hard enough for it to burst. She could already hear it as the sound rang above the other noises of the burning world. It was not much longer before she began to hear the growls of the rotting ash. The scent of their putrid, decaying bodies starting to waft in her nose; the threat of injuring her making her quicken her steps beyond their fastest capacity.

To be reasonable; she had almost completely forgotten about the object she was supposed to find.

Stopping abruptly in her tracks, her feet now completely smothered in smudges of black and grey, she was able to decipher the previous befuddling noises of the numerous sounds that encompassed her before, now realizing that somehow or another, the beasts were now in front of her as well.

With them cornering her like this all she can do-no, could do—was just stand there. Just like she was every other time she came here. The growls and grunt were now clearly audible and they seemed to be in more number than usual.

At some point the familiar sensation waves and waves of pain came to her again; like iron nails being punctured through her skin, lava coming into her blood and stinging ash tainting and burning her skin.

Once again, she did what she had always done; screamed in agony.

-X-

A/N: Hmm, I think my descriptions of hell are turning a bit stale. I am starting to doubt the scenery has the same intensity as its first presentation...


End file.
